walking dream, stared about him, found that he
had walked almost to the fence surrounding the light keeper's home and
would have collided with that fence in another stride or two, looked
around, down, and finally up--to see Captain Jethro leaning over the
iron rail surrounding the lantern room at the top of the lighthouse.

"Oh! Why--ah--good gracious!" he exclaimed. "Were you calling me,
Captain Hallett?"

Captain Jethro shook his big head. "Callin'!" he repeated. "I've been
bellerin' like the foghorn for five minutes. A little more of it and
I'd have run out of steam or bust a b'iler, one or t'other. Ain't been
struck deef, have you, Mr. Bangs?"

"No--ah--no, I trust not. I was--ah--thinking, I presume, and I did not
hear you. I'm very sorry."

"That's all right. Glad you was only thinkin' and no worse. I didn't
know but you'd been struck by walkin' paralysis or somethin'. Say,"
he leaned further over the rail and lowered his voice. "Say," he said
again, "would you mind comin' up here a minute? I want to talk to you."

Mr. Bangs did not mind and, entering the round tower, he climbed the
spiral stair to the little room at the top. The great lantern, with its
glittering facets and lenses filled that room almost entirely, and the
light keeper's great form filled it still more. There was scarcely space
for little Galusha to squeeze in.

Jethro explained that he had been cleaning the lantern. "It's Zacheus'
job really," he observed, "but I have to do it myself once in a while
to keep it shipshape. Say," he added, opening the door which led to the
balcony, "look out yonder. Worth lookin' at, ain't it?"

It was. The morning was dry and clear, a brisk wind from the west, and
not a cloud. The lighthouse, built as it was upon the knoll at the edge
of the bluff, seemed to be vastly higher than it actually was, and to
tower far above all else until the view from its top was almost like
that from an aeroplane. The horizon swept clear and unbroken for three
quarters of a circle, two of those quarters the sharp blue rim of the
ocean meeting the sky. The white wave-crests leaped and twinkled and
danced for miles and miles. Far below on the yellow sand of the beach,
the advancing and retreating breakers embroidered lacy patterns which
changed constantly.

"Worth looking at, ain't it?" repeated the captain.

Galusha nodded. "Indeed it is," he said, with emphasis. Yet it surprised
him slightly to find the gruff old light keepe